


You Will Find Me if You Want Me in the Garden (Unless It's Pouring Down With Rain)

by PazithiGallifreya



Series: Carry That Weight [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen, Severitus, Severus Snape Lives, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-20
Updated: 2016-09-20
Packaged: 2018-08-16 05:25:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8088883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PazithiGallifreya/pseuds/PazithiGallifreya
Summary: Harry Potter, well into his Auror training, decides to wander out into London on his lunch break for a change and runs headlong into his past.Dudley Dursley, at least, is trying to leave some of his past behind, for once.





	

It wasn’t against the rules, exactly, but it was sort of frowned upon, he supposed.

Most of them preferred to stick to wizarding establishments, flooing into Diagon Alley, or simply bringing something from home. Harry normally did the same, cobbling together a sandwich or leftovers. Mrs. Weasley always offered to do it for the both of them, but Harry and Ron would be moving into their new flat in London along with Neville at the end of the month, and Harry figured he might as well get used to feeding himself.

He’d left the sack with the corned beef sandwich sitting on the counter this morning, though, in a rush out the door after oversleeping. He could floo back to the Burrow and grab it, of course. Instead, he’d decided to wander a bit, walking past a nearby park, then under an archway, meandering mostly without purpose. He’d not really bothered to look at much of the city outside of his place of employment, hidden underground beneath Whitehall and out of sight of curious muggles. He’d been in the Auror training program for a couple of months now.

Harry glanced at his watch and his lunch hour was already half gone, and his stomach was still empty. He pulled his wallet out and checked that he still had a bit of muggle cash left.

The muggle fast food hamburger joint he walked into was nothing special. It was the sort of place his aunt and uncle would take Dudley to when he threw one of his tantrums. Dudley would get one of those meals that came in a colorful box with a cheap toy (which would be broken and forgotten by the end of the day). Harry would get the smallest, cheapest thing on the menu and be told to sit still and shut up.

Maybe that was the appeal, then - he could buy whatever awful junk food he wanted, and nobody could stop him. He smiled at the girl behind the till and ordered the most unhealthy-looking thing on the menu.

He grabbed the tray when his meal was ready and glanced around. The tables were all taken near the front, so he headed toward the back, hoping for an inconspicuous corner.

They were _all_ taken. He turned to go back toward the counter to ask for a sack when a blond head perched on a thick neck over broad shoulders in an ill-fitted suit caught his eye.

 _Dudley_.

Harry hesitated. He’d not seen his cousin in ages. Certainly not since his mother’s charm had been broken. Dudley would not recognize him, would he? But then, Dudley knew he was a wizard, at least. Harry turned toward the counter, then turned back toward his cousin again. Did he really want to do this? He didn’t want anything to do with his aunt and his uncle, but his cousin, somehow, still mattered. Unlike _them_ , Dudley had said goodbye. Dudley had told him he wasn’t a waste of space. Not exactly a declaration of undying affection, but still, it mattered.

He walked over to the table where Dudley was slowly picking at a rather unappealing looking salad. “Hey, you mind if I sit? Doesn’t seem to be anywhere else.”

Dudley looked up at him. His face was still round and somewhat childlike, although he’d lost even more weight since Harry had last seen him. His nose looked like it had been broken at least once in the meantime. “Hm? Oh. Yea, fine.”

Harry smiled and put his tray down, opening ketchup packets to douse his food like a kid would. He knew his cousin was staring at him, a fork full of somewhat wilted lettuce momentarily forgotten. He knew he ought to tell his cousin, but he wasn’t sure how to. Dudley had always been afraid of magic, especially after the dementors.

“Um, do I know you? I feel like we’ve met somewhere.”

Harry sighed and put the burger down.“Yea, you know me.”

He pushed his long hair out of the way, showing the telltale scar.

“ _Harry_?”

He tried not to laugh at his cousin, and failed. “Yea, that’s me.”

“Er… uh… why d’you look so different?”

Harry’s amusement evaporated, as did most of his appetite. The greasy fast food, on the whole, was actually pretty awful, now that he thought about it. He’d wanted it because it was something he couldn’t have before, but now that he had it, it lost its appeal. “It’s kind of a long story. But this is just how I look, now.”

“Some kind of wiz– er, you-know-what thing?” Dudley glanced over his shoulder nervously, as though his near-slip of the tongue might have summoned something dangerous.

“Something like that, I guess. I’ll tell you about it sometime maybe, but it’s not that important really. You doing alright, though?”

Dudley gave him a half-hearted smile, still clearly nervous. He didn’t seem completely unhappy to see his cousin, Harry thought, which gave him hope.

“Oh, uh, yea. Dad got me a job at a hotel where someone owed him a favor. It’s… alright. Pay’s pretty good.”

“Thought you wanted to be a boxer, though?”

Dudley shrugged, pushing his salad around with the plastic fork. “I did, but mum and dad thought I should have a proper job. I mean, I should, y’know?”

“Is that what you really want?”

“Maybe. Dunno. I guess. Been seein’ this girl, I think I might ask her… well, it's a nice job. It’s good pay. ‘Promotion prospects’ dad says.”

Harry leaned on his elbow and rubbed at the back of his neck. He felt like he should say something. Congratulate his cousin, or something, but he didn’t know what to say. It _had_ been a long time. Harry thought about his own father. He’d forgiven him. Well… _mostly_. He still remembered, he still got angry sometimes. He could forgive Dudley, probably. His aunt and uncle, though? That he was not at all sure about. But Dudley… Harry glanced at his watch. He didn’t have enough time to walk back before his lunch break was over as it was. Robards would not be pleased, but he didn’t want to walk away quite yet.

“Well, I’m not too far from you then, probably. I’ve got a job nearby too. Maybe we could catch up when I’ve got more time?” Harry pulled a scrap of parchment out of his pocket. He nearly grabbed his self-inking quill, but then remembered himself. "Have you got a pen? I’m moving into a flat end of next week, I’ll give you the address.”

Dudley stared at him, his mouth slightly open. He blinked after a moment, then fished an expensive looking pen out, handing it to his cousin. Harry scratched down the address and tore the corner off the sheet to hand over. Dudley looked at it, then reached over and grabbed the rest of the paper. “I’ll give you mine too. And my mobile number. Have, uh… have you got a phone?”

“Um, not yet, no. Might do later, I guess.” Ron and Neville wouldn’t use a phone, he knew. He’d be paying for it himself if he got one. He remembered the last time a Weasley tried to use a “fellytone” and suppressed a smile. “If I get one put in after I move in, I’ll give you the number.”

Dudley wrote an address and phone number down, then pushed the parchment back across the table. Harry looked at it and felt a sudden apprehension. “You don’t still live at home, do you?”

“Um, yea, for now. Mum and dad told me to save my money up. So I can get my own place later. Um.. maybe call first if you want to come over. I dunno if they’d…”

“Yea, I don’t think they would. Probably best not to say anything to them.”

Dudley nodded, smiling crookedly. Something unspoken passed between them. An acknowledgement, perhaps, that maybe Dudley finally understood, a little at least.

“I’m done at 5 usually if you want to meet up later. I know a decent pub.”

Harry was supposed to floo into Hogwarts after supper to meet his father for his defense tutoring. They were working on counter-curses and blocks this week. He’d been knocked flat on his backside so often already he was surprised he had a bum left. His father wasn’t trying to hurt him. Snape wanted him able to defend himself better, and wasn’t about to go easy on him, though. Harry had always felt himself to be a competent wizard when it came to defensive magic, better than average, even, but if he'd doubted that Snape was a powerful wizard in his own right, he'd been reminded. He’d felt a suppressed but still very much present sense of dread coming off the man for weeks, now. He was terrified that his son was going to be killed sooner or later, probably. Harry sort of felt sorry for him, but not enough to change his career plans. He’d get read the riot act if he showed up late and Snape would probably make him stay on to make up the time twice over. But maybe he could just take it, this once.

“Sounds good.”

 

* * *

 

They sat in a booth tucked away at the back of the pub. It was still fairly early, but they were far from the only patrons. Harry swallowed a mouthful of the beer that Dudley had put in front of him, trying not to react to the bitterness of it. Butterbeer, it was not.

“So, uh, this girl you've been seeing...”

Dudley's face lit up like he'd just been given thirty-seven birthday presents. “Oh, yea. Vickie. You'll have to meet her sometime, maybe.”

Harry glanced around at the groups of suits clustered around the bar and other tables. Civic officials, bankers, others of that ilk. He wasn't dressed slovenly, exactly, and he'd had the sense to shuck his robes before leaving the Ministry, but his trousers and shirt didn't quite pass muster for business attire. Nobody was paying attention to either of them, but he felt distinctly out of place. He smiled at his cousin, though, and took another sip of the beer. “I'm sure she's wonderful.”

“Yea, she is. You got a girlfriend? Or do your sort do dating?”

Harry snorted. “Yea, my 'sort' do dating. And, uh, well...” He thought for a minute. He and Ginny had been spending more time together lately, but they hadn't really talked about exactly what their relationship was. He hoped, but didn't want to assume. He had to wait til Hogsmeade weekends to catch her, but she always seemed happy to meet him down at the Three Broomsticks for lunch and then wander about the village together. “Sort of, I guess. It's kind of complicated.”

“Oh, uh...”

His cousin seemed at a loss, but Harry didn't really know what to say, either. The whole conversation was just turning awkward, already. Harry glanced at his watch. He wasn't meeting his father until after dinner so he had a couple of hours still. It wasn't that he didn't want to catch up with his cousin, but the weight of their past sat between them like an ill-tempered rhinoceros.

Dudley drank more than a sip of his beer, apparently rather more fond of the taste than Harry was. “So, this thing with your face, um...”

Harry let a breath out slowly and sank back in the booth. “Yea, about that. I don't really know a good way to explain it. A lot of ma... er, you-know-what involved. But I guess the gist of it is that the person I thought was my father wasn't my father and my mum tried to hide it, but the thing she did to hide it didn't last.”

Dudley blinked at him and drank more of his beer while his cheeks turned a lovely shade of pink. “That's... um. Well then. Er, do you know who your dad is, then?”

“Oh, yea. I know who he is alright.” Harry watched several expressions cross his cousin's face as he processed the information. It was a bit like watching a dog chewing a toffee.

“So... he's not dead, then?”

“No, he's not dead.”

“Is he a wiz... er, he's like you?”

“Yea, he is. Um, you probably shouldn't mention this to your mum, by the way.”

Dudley's eyes widened and he shook his head energetically. “Oooh no. Definitely not. I'm not that dumb, Harry, believe me.” Dudley stared down into his beer, one finger tapping at the mug. “Must be nice though, you have a dad now.”

Harry thought about it for a moment. It had only been a few months, really, and he still wasn't quite used to the idea. He didn't know how to explain it to Dudley though. He'd hated Snape for so long, or hated what he thought Snape was at any rate. He'd certainly hated the stream of rubbish that had routinely come out of the man's mouth at his friends and himself for so many years. He'd changed, though. Harry scratched behind his ear and shrugged at his cousin.

“What, is he really horrible?”

“Not exactly. It's...”

“Complicated, yea, you've said.”

“I guess in a way it is. I've known him for a few years, actually. He's a teacher at Hog... er, at the school I went to. He wasn't easy to be around, though, he had a real temper. But he saved my life. More than once. I thought he was horrible, though. But he's always looked out for me, in his own way.”

“Cos you're his son, right? Why didn't he just tell you from the start?”

“He didn't know either, until last May.”

Dudley stopped a waitress on her way past and ordered something. “Got to be weird, I guess. Finding out you have a kid you've known years but didn't know he was your kid.”

“Yea, it's been weird alright.”

The waitress swept by and deposited a plate full of chips. Harry grabbed a couple and chewed at them. They were a bit soggy but he was glad to have some kind of distraction.

“Is he nice to you now, though?”

Harry washed down the snack with more of the beer, wondering again what the appeal was.

“He's been.. decent. Mostly.”

“Well that's alright, then, isn't it?”

“Yea, it's alright.”

“You should have a dad who's nice to you.”

Harry choked slightly and put the beer down and looked across the table at his cousin. It was the sort of dead-obvious statement he'd expect from Dudley, all surface, but he'd made the comment rather emphatically, like he was trying to make some kind of point. Harry pushed down his impatience and the urge to poke fun at him, as he would have a few years ago. Dudley was never going to be the most articulate person, but at least he was trying.

“Well, he's alright. He's been helping me with some stuff lately, actually.”

“Good. I'm glad.” Dudley sniffled slightly and looked away, seemingly embarrassed. “Um.. yea.”

“Thanks, Dudley.”

“I've.. uh, I've been thinking about some stuff this last year. While we had to hide in that village. Weren't much else to do really. 'Cept sit around and watch a bunch of sheep, I guess.”

Harry grabbed another soggy chip off the plate, wondering what his cousin had in mind.

“Mum and dad, um... they could have been nicer to you. I always thought maybe you'd done something, like they had a reason to hate you. For being a freak, or whatever. But, like... you couldn't help it, could you?”

Harry sighed and turned the beer mug slowly around on the table between his hands. “No, Dudley, I couldn't.”

“Those Order people seemed really upset after we left. About mum and dad not saying goodbye to you properly. Said you'd been through a lot of stuff. That you were gonna have to do a lot more.”

Harry glanced around the room, thankful that nobody seemed to be paying any attention to them. “Yea, I had a lot 'stuff' alright. It's over and done with now, though.”

“Dad said he hoped you got blown up like your parents did and mum said she didn't care either way. But I'm glad you're not dead.”

Harry swallowed more beer, letting the bitterness of hops coat the back of his throat again. He really had no idea what to say to that. It seemed like everything in his life was changing too rapidly for him to keep up with anymore and it left him feeling disoriented sometimes. There were still mornings when he woke up and it was a shock to look in the mirror, if he were honest.

And then there were his evening sessions with his father. He'd dreaded the thought of it at first, but they'd quickly settled into a routine that was almost comfortable. They worked on potions most Saturday mornings and much of the day on Sunday, stopping only for lunch (which he ate at the head table next to his father at McGonagall's insistence, a somewhat bizarre experience in itself – he wasn't much older than most of the students, after all).

The rest of the week he dropped in after supper to work on Defense subjects. Snape had tried to rope Professor Flitwick into tutoring him in Charms, but the diminutive professor didn't have the time, really, and as for Transfiguration, Professor McGonagall barely had time to breathe these days, much less bother with his remedial training. Harry had a feeling she was already regretting her choice to continue teaching in addition to her duties as Headmistress. She'd already conceded most of her head of house duties over to Hagrid at this point and had roped Snape into picking up a few extra tasks as deputy headmaster, but Harry had a feeling she'd be hiring a new instructor for Transfiguration next year. So, Harry was left to the mercy of the Ministry appointed tutors for the rest, much to Snape's consternation. He seemed to think Harry would be left utterly ignorant and helpless at their hands.

But Harry had somehow come to look forward to their time together. It wasn't that Snape never got annoyed with him, but now that he could feel when the man's patience was being tested before it exploded, things were easier. That Snape was no longer trapped in some kind of bizarre time warp with James Potter every time he looked at Harry certainly didn't hurt matters, either. It was such a stark difference from his past experiences in Snape's classroom that it was like stepping into some parallel dimension. Part of him just felt even angrier over the past – _why couldn't Snape have just been this decent before?_ \- but Harry tried to push the past aside. What was the use, anyway.

Better to live in the present, however strange and foreign it felt at the moment. A present that included, apparently, his cousin also turning out to be surprisingly decent in the end.

They finished their beer and picked at the soggy chips for a while longer, neither of them, apparently, with much else to say at the moment. There was a lot, in fact, which remained unspoken between them, but Harry felt it wasn't quite time yet to deal with certain things. Much like his father, his cousin could probably only handle so much revelation at a time.

It was always one choice in the end, Harry felt. Either you could choose to forgive somebody and have that person be part of your life, or you could walk away forever. There was no way to compromise, he felt, at least not for very long.

After splitting the bill, they stepped out onto the pavement, the cool air a pleasant reprieve from the stuffy pub. It was getting dark and Harry pulled out his watch. He was already running late, but so be it. His father would forgive him, eventually. “It was nice to see you again, Dudley. Maybe I'll catch you again sometime?”

Dudley thrust a hand out and Harry shook it this time without reservation. “Sure, Harry. I'll, uh, drop by maybe. You said you'd be moving to this flat next week, right?”

“Yea, probably Saturday. Got a couple of flatmates, I think Neville's gonna move in on Thursday night, but I'll definitely be there by Saturday afternoon. Drop by if you like.”

“Your flatmates, they're uh...”

“Yea, they're like me. They don't bite, though, I promise. Though if you see any odd house plants laying about, maybe best not to touch them. Neville's got a collection. But it's an ordinary flat otherwise.”

“Oh, uh, okay. I'll see you 'round then.”

 

* * *

 

True to his word, Dudley Dursley banged on the door heavily around 8 PM on the Saturday Harry finally moved out of the Burrow and in with his two friends. It was a cramped space for three grown men, but a bit of semi-illegal charmwork expanded things somewhat. Harry hoped Dudley wouldn't notice that the interior dimensions of the place couldn't possibly fit into the exterior.

It hadn't taken long for him to unpack earlier in the day. He hadn't done a lot of shopping since the end of the war, other than his new Firebolt, which was currently propped unceremoniously in the corner of his new bedroom. He'd shoved his clothes into the small closet and maybe he'd eventually get around to buying or transfiguring something into a proper bed, rather than sleeping on an old mattress dropped directly onto the floor. Ron had shifted some of the contents of his old bedroom back at the Burrow into his new room but had left a surprising amount of the clutter behind. He shrugged when Harry asked him about it, saying he didn't feel like he needed the posters and models and frogspawn anymore.

By contrast, Neville's bedroom actually looked like a fully furnished, proper bedroom. He'd managed to convince his grandmother to leave after a few hours, but not until she'd satisfied herself that he had everything she felt he needed.

At the moment there were four of them now flopped on the old sofa and in a couple of ragged looking armchairs that Ron had salvaged from somewhere (Harry didn't ask). Dudley was wringing his hands in his lap and chewing on his bottom lip. He wasn't as tall as Ron but easily out weighed any of the three others sitting in the room, and yet he seemed to shrink in on himself somehow.

Harry felt a stab of satisfaction, though, that Dudley had come in at all. Ron had been skeptical, to say the least, but Harry had managed to extract a promise from him that he'd leave Dudley alone at the very least, if he couldn't be polite. Ron had seemed insulted by the insinuation that he couldn't, but also made his opinion (not exactly unfounded) of Harry's cousin plain.

Few things terrified his cousin like magic, though, given that every experience he'd had of it had ranged from embarrassing to nearly disastrous. And yet here he was, sitting in a room with three wizards, looking around the place like a lost tourist.

“No telly, then?”

“No, not much time for telly watching lately.”

“Oh, your job. Right. What did you say you do again?”

“We're all three training as Aurors. Um, a bit like police, I guess. We'll be going after bad wizards.”

Dudley looked momentarily confused. Harry had thought the comparison to be pretty plain.

“Isn't that what you were already doing? I mean, before?”

“Well, yea. All three of us, actually. Not in exactly the same ways I guess, but yea.”

“Then what d'you need training for?”

Harry laughed and Dudley turned red, apparently feeling like he'd said something stupid.

“Oh, I'm not laughing at you, Dudley. Just... yea, we've done a lot already. But I guess there's rules that have to be followed. And on my own part at least, I'll admit I don't know everything. Can't hurt to learn more, I guess. It's just a requirement for the job, basically.”

“Oh, right. Like at the hotel, they've been teaching me how to use the computer to track everything. Inventory and bookings and staff schedules and whatnot. Um... are there a lot of them, still? Dark wizards?” Dudley's eye passed over the room again, as though he were afraid one might spring out of a corner suddenly.

“Probably not for a while. I think any of them still around are smart enough to stay out of the way for now.”

“What about those dementor things? Are there a lot of them about still?” Dudley rubbed at his arms, as though chilled.

Ron and Neville looked across at each other. Ron shrugged and Neville looked at Harry, who shook his head slightly. A conversation for another time.

“They mostly sort of disappeared after Voldemort died. No one's really sure what happened to them all but I doubt they'll get that bold again any time soon.” Harry leaned forward and looked at his cousin's face where he sat next to him. Dudley had taken on a slightly glazed look. Harry took a chance and put a hand on Dudley's prodigious shoulder, shaking him slightly. “Hey, don't worry about that. I'm serious, they're not gonna come after you again.”

Dudley shook himself, the moment passing. “Yea, of course not.”

Eventually Dudley looked at his watched, declared it Getting Late and excused himself, slipping back out into the night to make his way back to his parents' home.

Harry stood at the door, shaking his head at the strangeness of the evening. Ron stared at the empty space Dudley had vacated from the sofa.

“I dunno, mate, I guess he's changed. He's not what I remember, at any rate.”

“Yea, Ron, he's changed alright.”

“What did it, I wonder. He always seemed pretty hopeless if you ask me.”

Harry shrugged. He didn't really care what had started Dudley's change of heart, but he was glad for it, whatever it was. In the space of a few months he'd gained a father, and now a cousin.

Not that Dudley wasn't his cousin before, but blood ties alone didn't add up to much, outside of the realm of protective charms. He hadn't asked Dudley about Aunt Petunia and he probably never would. Dudley might turn over a new leaf, but Lily's sister would never care, he knew it in his bones. She'd chosen anger and bitterness over forgiveness many, many years ago.

But that didn't mean he and Dudley... well, Harry wasn't sure he'd call Dudley a friend, exactly. Not like Ron, Hermione and Neville were his friends. But they could be family, maybe. Real family, not just a burden on one another, or rivals, or a bully and his favorite target.

Funny how things turn out, sometimes.

“I don't know, exactly, Ron. I think it started when the dementors came after us summer before fifth year. I've always wondered what it was he felt when they were close, what he could possibly be afraid of. I'm not sure it's such a good idea to ask him, though.”

“Kind of unbelievable though. He was always such a prat to you as kids. Not much better than Malfoy. Or maybe Crabbe and Goyle, more like. Not much going on upstairs if you ask me.”

Harry shot Ron a sharp look. “I'll admit he's not the fastest broom in the shed, but he's not as dumb as you think, I reckon. He gets there, in the end, just takes a little longer than most maybe. Anyway, I think most of it was just my aunt and uncle feeding him a lot of rubbish as a kid. I think he's finally figuring out that maybe they didn't do him such a great favor.” Harry shut the door on the chill of the night air and flopped back down on the sofa next to Ron.

Neville was next to the window, busy pruning the leaves of one of his crossbreeding experiments. “It's a bit like plants, I guess. You have one that's not doing right, well maybe it's just the soil's wrong, or the light, or the watering. I've had a few I thought were gonna be a total failure until I repotted them in a different soil type or moved them to a different room or to another side of the garden. I mean, there are some plants that'll grow just about anywhere, you don't have to do a thing to them, but the ones that need something particular aren't necessarily bad, they just need something different.”

Harry leaned back into the cushions and crossed his arms behind his head. He closed his eyes and stretched his legs out, determined to relax for a few moments, at least, before the obligations of his job and training took over his life again.

“Hm, you're probably onto something there, Neville.”

The world was full of Neville's strange plants, Harry felt. Like his cousin. Like his father. Like himself.

It was just a matter of finding the right garden to put down your roots.

 

**Author's Note:**

> [You Will Find Me If You Want Me in the Garden (Unless It's Pouring Down With Rain)](https://vimeo.com/36556349)


End file.
